


The Meanest of Times

by daredevils



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Character Study, Other, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2333384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredevils/pseuds/daredevils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beautiful police cars, beautifully burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meanest of Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bleibt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleibt/gifts).



I.  **A.C.A.B.**  
  
"Cad atá suas Filip?"  
  
"Aon rud" he spits the words, coating them in his heavy accent. His breath steams in the 3am chill. Bottles clink together in the cheap nylon backpack. The plastic seams stink of stale cigarette ash and gasoline.  
  
"A ligean ar é seo a dhéanamh ansin."  
  
His fingers are steady as he claps the cheap plastic lighter. He can read the acronym stretching across his knobby knuckles. All Cops Are Bastards. The soaked cloth wick catches instantly.  
  
Beautiful police cars, beautifully burn.  
  


II.   **I.R.A.**

Filip 'The Scot' Telford had been in the organisation for 9 years. 

"A Glaschú aoibh gháire ar feadh buachaill Glaschú!" One of Jimmy's men says with a smirk as he kicks his numb body out of the van in the murky wet pavement outside the hospital. Tires screech. 

His face is on fire, every nerve ending scorched to a cinder by the all-consuming pain that oozes from the gaping gashes on his cheeks. 

He sees men and women averting their eyes as he's hastily pushed on a stretcher through the emergencies waiting room of Royal Victoria Hospital. He passes out shortly after, swimming in endless fluorescent light.  
  


III. **S.O.A.**

Chibs collects his scars and wears 'em well in America.

He joins the MC.   
He takes the stiff, clean patch from the president's hands and says "Thank you" still coating the words in his heavy Glaswegian accent. 

He takes the sweating beer bottle in his hand, the pale skin stretching over knobby knuckles that read SONS.

"Sláinte!" he rasps and brings the bottle to his lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i only know very basic irish so i used the help of google translate, there might be mistakes.
> 
> Cad atá suas? = What's up?  
> Aon rud = Nothing  
> A ligean ar é seo a dhéanamh ansin = Let's do this then
> 
> A Glaschú aoibh gháire ar feadh buachaill Glaschú = A Glasgow smile for a Glasgow boy
> 
> Sláinte = Cheers


End file.
